Separate Rooms
by Seasideshipper
Summary: The thoughts of Tom and Sybil on their return to Downton. The final chapter has been added, the aftermath of dinner. Please review, I hope you have enjoyed the story. Also final thanks to Misspixieway for all her betawork!
1. Chapter 1

Separate rooms.

The light was just beginning to creep around the edge of the curtains to signal the start of the day. Sybil was waking slowly, loosened with the feeling of having slept truly deeply, stretching her legs to the far corners of her bed.

She knew every inch of it, the way one side was slightly depressed, the exact place that was the most comfortable. Looking around her room, still in deep shadow, the familiar silhouettes were strangely comforting. That was her scent bottle, her hairbrush she had used since aged 5, a present from her aunt, and the trinket box from an American relative.

Soon Anna would be gently knocking to get her ready for the day, dressed to go down to breakfast. Wondering what dress to choose for today, her eyes paused on the valise near the door, she was sure that's what it was, although the dim light made it hard to tell.

That's when the realisation hit her with full force. This had been her room. Had, not was. Slowly the events of the previous night returned, the delayed train and the empty platform. The long drive up to the darkened house, its inhabitents already asleep. Being helped out of the car by the new chauffeur... And walking into the house with the last occupant of that post. Tom, what must he be thinking right now? She had to go to him straight away.

It was undeniable. The light was creeping around the curtains. The idyllic sound of birds beginning their day faintly could be heard from the nearby wood. Morning was here.

His sleep had been minimal. The unfamiliar surroundings, sleeping in a strange bed and the silhouettes which didn't make sense making for a disturbed night. Even the light coming through the window jarred, his own room at home having no such bright outlook.

Arriving so late, Tom had realised the inevitable was delayed. Noone was there to greet them as they walked through the door, or, a truer reflection of how he felt, sneak through it. At the time he felt fate had been kind, now he was beginning to doubt it. Fate in his experience had a sense of humour if not irony. Still, at the time, he had been happy with the delay. After all, he thought with a smile, anything could happen between now and the looming morning breakfast.

He lay there, turning his mind to the options. Lord Grantham called away on urgent business, Lady Mary indisposed with a cold. The Dowager too busy fighting for one upmanship with Mrs Crawley. His own heart murmur heroically coming to the rescue, sending him to the hospital or even the heavens. Any number of things. Unfortunately it did not seem any of those things had happened and time was running out.

Of course they had discussed how separate rooms would be expected for their stay at Downton. It was the aristocrat way. It seemed rather pointless to him. After all, Sybil's growing bump was evidence, if any were needed, that they had had at least one night together. Still, it was another thing altogether for Lord Grantham to be confronted with the evidence in his own home. Had that urgent business taken him away yet?

Smiling wistfully, Tom felt a newfound appreciation for what Sybil had done to be with him. After all, spending her first night at his mother's house could have been no less daunting. Although his mother had,for the sake of her son, been polite to her prospective daughter in law, a more unlikely ending to his employment with the Crawley family was hard to imagine.

The reminiscing was brought to an abrupt halt by the slow turn of the door knob. Swallowing deeply Tom prepared himself for Thomas to enter the room. It was the worst case scenario he had mentally steeled himself for. What a fraud he felt, lying there in the family's quarters, whilst those he had spent 8 years working with had already been up for several hours. How they must hate him. Or worse, consider him a joke. The former socialist now with a firm footing in the nobility, had he become what he despised by getting what he had so long desired?

Yet fate was to prove kind at least once more. Even in the dark, he knew immediately it was not a former colleague, but his wife. Fears put to one side as she strolled to the bed and they embraced, she held his face with both hands and gazed into his eyes. "I'm here" was all that she said and it was a wondrous echo of the past.


	2. Chapter 2

It was her mother's visit to Dublin which had signalled the thawing of relations between them. True, she had stayed at the finest hotel in the city and mainly met her daughter in neutral locations, but on the occasions Tom had been with his wife it had at least been civil. As Cora had prepared to go home, vague suggestions of them paying a return visit to Downton were aired, yet both assumed from politeness rather than genuine substance.

So it had come as a shock when the letter had dropped through the door of their modest terraced house bearing the unmistakable Yorkshire postmark, inviting them for an extended stay to include her sister's wedding to Matthew. As a freelance journalist tom was afforded considerably more freedom than other working men, yet the idea of returning to Downton for the suggested 6 weeks had initially made him feel physically sick.

Now, as Sybil lay on the bed which had seen him pass his first night as a member of the family at Downton, her head resting comfortably on his chest, she considered the last 10 months they had spent together, wondering how her family and the staff would view them.

The first few months of marriage had seen an equal share of pointless rows and frantic making up. Her first few weeks in the hospital had been strangely similar in experience, joy at the worth of her work and making a difference, angry despair at the prejudice her accent rained down on her from the staff and patients.

The pregnancy had come as a rather unexpected surprise if she was honest, no, if she were entirely truthful, unwelcome shock. Well, she had been so controlled in her life until the discovery, being entirely sure of her heart before agreeing to leave with Tom, that the baby growing inside, being something she hadn't planned or could control scared her. Whilst it was inside her, she could almost pretend it hadn't changed things. Lifting her head up to look into Tom's eyes, she knew with a sadness that it had. There would be no more time to get to know each other as a couple in their new relationship on their own, the third person would demand their priority. Her fear was that it could come between them. Their differing backgrounds already provided an easy source of disagreement when they were tired or stressed, their views on child rearing were likely to add more fuel to the flame of their already volatile relationship.

Worse, she had to admit now she was here, to herself at least, the reason she had not wanted her sisters to know about the baby wasn't to surprise them, it was from a sense of shame and failure. Brave Sybil, going to another country, to work, to live with a man outside her class, to rebel against convention, in fact getting pregnant almost immediately, a wife and mother, it was not the life she had dreamed of making for herself. Ironically, she reflected, it was the path all the women in her family had dutifully trodden before her, if you substituted peer of the realm husband for irish hothead chauffeur. A rather fundamental difference though, she drily thought.

Yet despite these thoughts, Sybil could truly say she did not regret what she had done. They loved each other and were committed to their future together, they would just have to adapt their world of two to one for three. Others had to after all. Tom had too many cousins to remember, children seemed prolific in Dublin compared to here.

Now, she realised the time had come to return to her room before the house woke. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked, realising as she said the words how ridiculous a question it was. He looked deeply into her eyes searching within him for the right answer to give, he then looked away as he didn't find it, with a grimace. "Tom Branson, I'm ashamed of you. What exactly is it you are afraid of they might do to you? It can't be worse than anything we've already faced together. Honestly when you get in one of your sulks you are the most unbearable grumpy.." her angry words were silenced by the touch of his lips on her forehead. When she looked at him again, the self doubt had passed, replaced by a resolutely determined smile.

Her mission accomplished she silently left the room, closing the door behind her, like a mirage that disappeared with the faintest touch.

So, Tom concluded, he really had to go through with this. But there was no need to lie there like a frightened schoolboy, a lamb to the slaughter, dreading the first contact in the new roles of servant and master. Whoever he had to face, it had to better in his day clothes than night attire. Buoyed by the visit of Sybil, he sprung to his feet, retrieving a set of clothes from his valise, and positioned them on the bed, vainly attempting to remove the travel induced wrinkles. Sighing at the uninspiring results, the turn of the doorknob for the second time that morning caused him to pause. This time it wasn't Sybil.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Well I don't think its right, waiting on him like he's one of them. We all know what went on, the sneaking around late at night, she's no better than Lady Mary. Probably had to get married as tainted goods. I..."

" You will be silent Miss O'Brien!" Mr Carson bellowed. " I called all the senior servants together out of courtesy, when I heard the Bransons would be visiting, which I can see now was neither deserving nor necessary."

Thomas had been observing the scene silently, a smirk gracing his lips. He often admitted to himself, if not others, his good fortune in being valet to the Earl of Grantham, and was certainly not going to do anything to jeopardise his enviable position. Still he hadn't gotten where he was by not understanding human nature, or knowing when he could get away with a bit of fun at someone else's expense. "Well I think we should let bygones be bygones Mr Carson'. Thomas's words reduced the staff to stunned surprise. O'Brien caught his eye with a raised eyebrow and he nodded, suggesting they continue the conversation in private as was their habit. Just then the drawing room bell rang, breaking the silence and dispersing the staff.

Later, over a cigarette, he had discussed with O'Brien his plans for making Branson's stay as excruciating as possible. "Its the least he deserves after the heartbreak he caused my lady" O'Brien concurred.

The next morning, Thomas ascended the stairs to Branson's room, casting himself in the role of cat to his mouse. He saw the door open and could just make out it was Lady Sybil, checking the corridor was clear before returning to her room further down the hall. What could be his hold on her, he mused. Sure, he was not a bad looking man, and he knew a thing or two about politics, but not the real world, it was all so much daydreaming as far as he was concerned. Well, he for one was more than happy to help bring him back down to earth, almost doing him a service in his mind.

He opened the door quickly and without knocking, surprised to see his prey standing up and trying to tidy his clothes, Ill at ease though, as he'd hoped.

"Now there Mr Branson. There's no need for a gentleman like you to be doing that is there, what were you..."

"You can cut the shite out right now Thomas" came the determined reply, heavy with the Irish brogue which hadn't been heard at Downton since he'd left, adding extra attitude to the sentence.

Thomas drew himself up to his full height which he was satisfied to see was several inches higher than Branson. His plan to subtley undermine him was abandoned instantly, as he felt his anger and resentment at the easy life the chauffeur had acquired by simply being a bit of rough for one of the daughters of the house boil over. "Well I see you can take the man out of Ireland but not the Irish out of the man." Branson took a step towards him, despite the differences in their height, Thomas remembered he never was one to back out of a fight. Well, his initial plan to gently goad him into a seemingly unprovoked fight had failed, but on the other hand, he had to admit, the direct insults were more fun than the more subtle plan of intimidation he'd originally hatched.

"She grown tired of you yet, now she's had a few rides off you? Not that you would be tired of her, as your mealticket". Thomas realised, from the look of fear that darted in Branson's eyes that this had hit a nerve, mentally noting it for future use. " I wouldn't worry" he confidentally continued "the family will pay you off when she's finished with you to keep the scandal down and she can find herself a real man. Though she might find it hard finding someone happy to take her as your used goods. Its a shame she didn't just let you have a quick fumble in the back seat of the car and get you out of her system. Then again maybe she did."

"That's it, we all know you are a nasty piece of work, but if you're going to insult my wife you can do it on your own". Taking Thomas by surprise he grabbed his left arm forcefully behind his back and with his free hand opened up the door. " I won't be needing your services the rest of my stay thank you" he said as he threw him into the corridor. Thomas took a step towards him, insulted by his treatment from the former chauffeur.

"Did I not make myself clear, or would my fists help make it a bit clearer?" It was unfortunate that at that moment Lord Grantham had opened his nearby door to see what the commotion was about. Seeing his daughter's husband, half dressed, with a wild look in his eyes threatening to punch his valet was exactly the sort of scenario he'd expected when Cora had mooted the idea of his daughter and son in law visiting. Against his better judgment he had agreed, but he could see now he was wrong to have done so. Without a word, he slammed his door in disgust. Tom closed his eyes and sighed, knowing he had let Sybil and himself down by allowing his temper to once more get the better of him, but determined not to make a bad situation worse. Avoiding Thomas's gaze, he returned silently to his room.

Thomas straightened his jacket and walked down the stairs, smirk firmly in place. Round one to me, he thought with satisfaction.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sybil smiled to herself as she climbed back into her welcoming bed. She was really beginning to understand the man she had given up so much for, and how to handle his sometimes difficult moods. Now to work out how best to break the news of her pregnancy to her sisters. She couldn't bear the thought of them thinking she had made a mistake or regretted her choice, but they would realise it hadn't been in her plan.

The pregnancy had been textbook so far from what she could glean from the two trusted sources of Tom's older sister Kathleen, and one of her few nursing friends, Eveline. The nauseaus first few months had been followed by unexpected energy. She smiled to herself as she remembered fondly how it was the smell of ink on Tom's hands which always seemed to trigger the bouts of sickness. So from that realisation onwards, Tom had kept his hands scrupulously clean. He had dryly commented how Lenin would have imprisoned him had he been in Soviet Russia, assuming from his clean hands he was one of the bourgeoisie.

As she put one hand on the bump, hidden under the covers, she tried to imagine what the little one would look like. Somehow she just couldn't picture how her and Tom's features could be merged into one person. She guessed she had about 3 months still to go, but from early on in the pregnancy nothing could convince her he wasn't to be a boy. She couldn't really explain how she knew, and they hadn't discussed if they had any preferences, as somehow it would make it more real. It would be strange after all these years, to be in a male dominated house, then again, maybe having a girl next would balance the family out.

She frowned then, so, it was already happening to her, the acceptance that this was her life from now on. Tom would scrape a living whilst she spent her days tidying the house and looking after the children. She had been too ashamed of her feelings to discuss them with Tom, unsure of his reaction. Her frustration grew, when would anything go their way? Others seemed to have more than their share of luck, her eldest sister for one. A tear escaped her eye, her pregnancy had made her more emotional and uncontrolled than usual.

Just then the door opened and the aforementioned sister peered round. "I thought it would be more fun darling if I helped you get ready this morning, like when we were little. Welcome back." It was obvious from her glowing face that Mary was finally content, with the wedding only a few weeks away. Sybil searched for the words to announce her condition, her bump still hidden by the bedclothes, but none came.

"I've had Anna air and press the dresses you left behind. I thought you might like to wear the gold day dress today."

" I don't think that's a good idea, you see Tom..."

"Look, just because he can't afford to clothe you in what you are used to, there is no reason for you to dress badly. " Mary wrongly assumed Sybil feared Tom's reaction, rather than the fact that the clothes would not do. In fact, it had been some months since her clothes had fit unaltered anyway, but Mary's attempt to control the situation, and her, had left her angry. Sybil struggled to let the insult to her husband pass unremarked. She bit her lip, trying hard to keep her emotions in check, but feeling like she was still being treated as the baby sister, not a grown woman, who was certainly capable of choosing her own clothes, amongst other things.

" I think I can guess what this is" Mary said, noting the tear stained face and discarded wedding ring, which unbeknownst to her no longer fit Sybil's swollen fingers."and you don't have to worry. It can be sorted. Its almost fashionable these days. Things may not have gone to plan, but there are things which can be done. In fact, I sensed from your letters something was wrong so made enquiries."

"You did?" Sybil sniffed. Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard. "That's such a relief. I had been dreading telling you." More tears escaped. Mary sat down on the bed next to her and put her hand gently on her arm.

" Hush darling. I will speak to Matthew later. We need only establish cause which I'm sure Branson will agree to for a suitable payment. Is it adultery or cruelty?"

"What, I don't understand?" a bewildered Sybil queried.

"You have to have cause for the divorce from what I can gather, but I don't think it will be a problem" . Mary looked sympathetically into her sister's eyes.

"Divorce? You think that..that's why...?" She could not continue the sentence, the shock followed by anger rendered her temporarily speechless.

"Well isn't it?"

"You mean you had already looked into it, you'd assumed that that would happen." she could see from her reaction that this was true. Would Mary's belief in her divine right to order her life never change? She threw aside the covers to reveal her swollen stomach, hastily throwing on one of the few dresses she had brought. Fortunately the clothes she now owned did not need any assistance to put on.

"Sybil, I just meant you don't have to keep going through with it if you don't want. Even with... " she looked down, unwilling to mention overtly the fact that she was expecting.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you yet again, all of you. Some things may not have happened as I'd expected, but we are not giving up on each other. Nothing has changed. Especially not now." Before Mary could reply, Sybil left the room, she needed to see the only person who made sense to her.

"I can see your morning is going as smoothly as mine" was Tom's attempt to make light of the situation as she told him of her encounter. "So we've not yet had breakfast on our first day, I've managed to practically punch the valet, insult your father's hospitality, and you've had a row with half of your sisters. "

She smiled through her tears, "and I don't think the new chauffeur was taken with you either" she added.

He smiled at that, then grew serious, having taken in that her feelings of frustration stemmed more from the baby than any real resentment of her sister. "Sybil, I know we've not talked about it, but after the baby is born, we will have some options. My sister still works some hours whilst my mother watches her children. I know its not usual in your circles, but if its what you want we will manage it. Look at Lenin's thoughts. Women have to be free from this outdated view that their role is purely domestic, so they are able to fully contribute to society."

"Really, I didn't know you admired him. Tell me more." she sarcastically stated.

He was about to continue with more on his political idol, when he saw the sparkle in her eyes, something which he could only now admit to himself had been missing these last few months.

"Are you teasing me Mrs Branson?" he said in a low voice, pulling her closely to him so their whole bodies were touching, including the bump, which she now began to hope might bring them closer together,not apart. The fact that they were here in Downton, the original setting for their forbidden romance, added a thrill of the elicit to their physical contact, despite the fact they were man and wife.

They kissed deeply and slowly, their foreheads touching as it ended, both sighing with unspent desire. "Lets go down for breakfast before we get ourselves into any more trouble" she said as she grasped his hand tightly.


	5. Chapter 5

Robert had been deeply disturbed by the earlier confrontation he had witnessed between his valet and Branson. Of course he had known the damn fool had a temper on him, from his own experience when he had tried to reason with him over the reckless marriage, but now he worried what might be happening to his youngest daughter in their marital home. It was not uncommon for men to strike their wives, particularly after a drink, which, being Irish, was more than likely a habit of his. But surely now she was having a baby...he stopped his train of thought, unwilling to consider the details of that. As he walked down the stairs towards the breakfast room, he considered his conversation a few days ago with Mary about the possibilities of ending the union legally, more and more convinced of the need to rescue his daughter from the situation her own naivity had put her in.

He was halted just outside the room by the sound of Sybil giggling. It was like stepping back in time 15 years to when they were all so little and he would walk in on them all, laughing over a governess or a doll. How was it that he was soon to be a grandfather and have two daughters married? Time pressed relentlessly on, regardless of how one felt about it. He paused as he unwillingly overheard the tail end of the conversation between his daughter and former chauffeur.

" Well I don't disagree with that, but you must admit I cut the toast into more interesting shapes than Mrs Patmore." Sybil lightly stated.

" I do that, although yours is usually blacker.."

He didn't wish to hear anymore of the intimate details of their breakfast routine, and hoped by entering the room the conversation could be halted.

Tom instinctively went to stand up but Sybil's firm hand on his knee prevented it. For what felt like a lifetime silence hung tangibly in the air.

"Good morning Papa" came the eventual break of silence. "Is Mama breakfasting upstairs as usual?"

Tom struggled to maintain a straight face at the way his wife had opened the conversation, noting that had it been 4 years ago at this very moment he would have been preparing the car for the day's travels, not sat next to Lord Grantham's daughter,the father of her unborn child, her hand still on his knee.

He looked astonished at her words, but nonetheless responded in kind. "Yes, she is looking forward to seeing you later. How are you?" he asked politely, maintaining the charade as he had been bred to do.

"We are both well. I thought we might call on Cousin Isobel and Matthew later, if that is agreeable to you."

"Yes of course. Do you wish to borrow the motor?" he stumbled.

They looked at each other and were clearly repressing their laughter at the absurdity of the question. "I think we'd just as well walk Sir. It was a confined trip from Dublin". Silence once again descended upon the room, the only sound coming from Tom replacing his knife on the table and the regular tick of the clock.

"Papa, Tom needs somewhere quiet to work on his articles during our stay, I thought the library would suit." she confidentally stated, not asked. A girl doesn't forget how to wrap her father round her finger it would seem, she thought. Tom was feeling more ill at ease as time went on but had realised the best thing to do was to say as little as possible. He realised now he had been naive to even hope things would somehow be different. Everything he knew about how people acted said there would be no immediate change, no convenient event where he could prove he deserved to be married to their daughter and be welcomed genuinely into the family. It would probably take years for any sort of acceptance, a gradual chipping away of the prejudice, requiring impeccable behaviour constantly. Already failed on that one, he thought.

For now he was simply grateful he was allowed to sit next to his wife for breakfast in silence. It was a start.

After they had finished and left the room, they agreed that Sybil would go to see her mother and Tom would go downstairs to the servants hall, before meeting in the library. It was hard to know what to do for the best, but after the encounter with Thomas, he'd decided it was safer to see the rest of the servants in their territory rather than the family's. "I'm not sure where my place is anymore" he commented to Sybil. "We are both anomolies" she said truthfully, "I'll see you later" as she looked over her shoulder walking towards her mother's room.

He cleared his throat as he opened the door to the servants' stairs. What must be the new footman, seeing someone he assumed was from upstairs, nervously bowed. "There's no need son." he said, smiling.

"Well that's a voice I wouldn't forget in a hurry, but I didn't expect you to darken these doors again anytime soon. You'd better come into my office my lad before all hell breaks loose".

"Mrs Hughes! You don't know what its like to see a friendly face."

"Its not often I'm called that, but I would like to hear how you two are getting on." For the next 15 minutes over a cup of tea, Tom told Mrs Hughes enough about their work and homelife for her to be convinced he was as hopelessly in love as ever, but also that they had as good, if not better chance of having a happy marriage as any other young couple. "and there is something else, we are expecting a baby".

At that moment Mr Carson walked in. Tom stood up immediately. "Mr Carson, I hope you are keeping well."

"Erm yes. I think Mr Branson in future would be better if you stayed with the family to avoid , unsettling, any of the servants" he said. The truth was he was unsure how to treat the former chauffeur, there was no agreed etiquette for how to behave to a former employee, who whilst in that employ had run off with one of the daughters of the house, and was going to be the father of his master's first grandchild it would seem.

"Very good Mr Carson sir" Tom replied cooly, his ambiguous method of addressing the butler causing him even more discomfort. " Thank you Mrs Hughes for your good wishes. Ill tell Sybil to visit you when she gets a moment." He left the servants area uneasily. Mr Carson had not openly said anything untoward, but he had looked at him with something approaching disdain. Thomas' earlier words came back to him, did they all just think she was his mealticket, and he her plaything? Would she tire of him? He knew he wasn't an easy man to live with sometimes.

Meanwhile, Sybil had been quizzed over her health endlessly by her mother, who was enjoying fussing over her youngest. "Well dear, I expect you to call on Dr Clarkson whilst you are visiting cousin Isobel, so he can check you over. Really Sybil darling, I do think you should use the motor."

"Mama its fine, you should know as well as I that being pregnant doesn't turn you into a china doll."

"and how are things between you and Tom? How's his work going?"

Sybil smiled at her mothers use of his first name, the only one of her family to have done so. "He's busy, and, well I think we are fine." Cora looked into her daughters eyes, and was reminded somewhat of her own early days of marriage, a strange country, a different class to learn how to deal with, and the worry and anticipation of being a mother.

"I'll give your love to cousin Isobel then." Sybil said with a smile as she left her mother's room to meet Tom in the library.

She found him frantically jotting down some notes, sat down at the desk. "How is your mother?" he asked, looking up. She walked over to him, bending down to kiss him on the neck. "Its a wonder I've ever had anything published with you as a distraction. Well I suppose we might as well set off. Unless of course you want to pick up where we left off earlier back in my room?" he said suggestively.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea actually, what with the baby and, well, being here. " she looked down, embarrassed to explain further. Although she'd enjoyed their earlier contact, the truth was she was worried it might make the baby come early or hurt it in some way, and her growing body was, in her mind, unattractive. It had in fact been some time since they had properly made love.

She saw his face darken for a moment, was it with self doubt or frustration? Then it seemed to clear and he stood up, putting on his jacket. "As you wish" was his quiet reply, and he refused to meet her gaze as they began the slow walk to the village in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

Now Sybil, I totally agree that exercise is good for an expectant mother, but I can't say at your stage it's wise to walk in such an isolated area. " Isobel said plainly, offering Sybil a refill of her cup of tea. They had been warmly welcomed into Isobel's home, and Sybil and Tom had updated her and Matthew on their lives in Dublin. Now Matthew was showing Tom some recent newspapers reporting of the Irish question which they shared a mutual interest in.

Sybil leaned in closely to her cousin. "There is one thing I wanted to ask but I was too embarrassed." Isobel's frank smile convinced her to continue "I've been getting these, well , cramp like pains across my stomach, well only for a moment, for a few weeks now."

"That's entirely usual in the last month dear. Now I think Dr Clarkson is expecting you in about 10 minutes."

Sybil stared at Isobel "Last month, no I've got another three to go. "

"I don't think so Sybil, I think judging by your size and the sensations you've been having its weeks not months, but Dr Clarkson can confirm."

Sybil sat quietly for a moment, biting her lip. Was it possible she, a nurse, had got her dates confused? She reflected that in all the upheaval prior to the wedding things hadn't been regular anyway, and she had heard from Tom's sister that you could still have your monthly bleed when pregnant and so be fooled.

The sound of Tom's deep laugh broke her reverie."Don't say anything to Tom yet" she hurridly whispered "I'll tell him myself when we know for certain." Now definitely wasn't the time, bearing in mind his earlier unpredictable and silent mood. If it was true, it would not be welcome. There would be no question of travelling back to Ireland for the birth, uncertainty over Tom's job, and all the awkwardness of an extended stay.

Tom and Matthew had managed to talk to each other as if they were old friends, conveniently forgetting the previous boundaries of their relationship, simply two young men beginning their own family lives. It was not usual anyway for your husband to attend examinations with the doctor anyway, so she quickly suggested Tom stay with Matthew whilst she saw the doctor. "I'd probably just get in the way anyway, although I will insist next time as it gets closer" he agreed.

"Actually Tom there's something else whilst you are here." Matthew said " We've taken the liberty of ordering you a suit for our wedding, I hope you don't mind. You could try it on." Tom and Sybil were both intensely moved at this gesture and its significance. Having Matthew on their side, and through him Mary, was a great boost to their worn confidence.

The visit to Dr Clarkson confirmed Isobel's suspicions that the baby would be born soon, at Downton. Although her husband's mood had cleared she knew him well enough to realise even a small disappointment or annoyance could send him back into the dark. Was it going to be better to tell him before this evenings dinner or after? At this point in time, delay seemed the better option.

As they walked back to the Abbey, Sybil instinctively put her hand on her stomach as she felt the now familiar tightening, practice was what Dr Clarkson had said it was, for what was to come. Toms's mood had remained lightened, and as they walked into the grounds they reminisced about some of the excuses she had made up in the past to see him. "I think my favourite was how you needed fresh air every evening about ten and found yourself walking past my garage for it" he teased.

"Well don't think I never noticed how you always took a longer route home than needed due to some big pothole that you wanted to avoid. "

"Guilty your honour. I sometimes wonder how noone else cottoned on, maybe they turned a blind eye."

They walked on smiling, and Tom linked his fingers in with Sybils in a gesture of contentment. As they walked through the front door their thoughts turned to more encounters with the family and servants.

"Who will be at dinner tonight then do you reckon? " Tom asked boldly.

Sybil smiled at her husband, he seemed to have grown in confidence since talking to his future brother in law.

"Well, if you are asking will Grannie be there, then yes I think she will. I assume word will have got round by now about the baby to them all, which at least saves us a job. Also Cousin Isobel and Matthew said they were coming for support."

"Well we've nothing to be ashamed of or regret, its not like we've come back here with no jobs or prospects, expecting the family to pay for us and the little one, with no intention of returning to Dublin."

Sybil laughed nervously, it occured to her it wasn't just the birth that would keep them here, but also that travelling back to Ireland with the baby could only be undertaken some time later. She would definitely tell him in the morning, there was no point dragging it out.

First things first though, for now there was dinner with all the family to survive, she concluded.


	7. Chapter 7

"You'll do, there that's it." Sybil had just finished tying Tom's tie in his room, ready for the impending evening meal. "I can't quite believe we are doing this after all these years. Its finally in the open." She tenderly rested her hands on his shoulders, taking in the momentous occasion.

Tom looked thoughtfully into her eyes." The sneaking about was exciting though. Casually mentioning where I was going to be at a certain time, hoping you would turn up. Dropping seemingly innocent things into conversation in front of your sisters that only I knew the real meaning of and the long stares into each other's eyes. Sybil, you don't think...?"

Tom was cut off by the sound of the dinner gong.

"What were you saying?" Sybil asked absentmindedly, smoothing her dress over her bump.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter. Shall we?" he said as he took her hand.

They walked down the imposing staircase to see the rest of the family gathering. Cora had placed Tom between herself and Sybil, a sort of buffer, although nothing could shield adequately from the curious stares of the junior servants and the disapproving countenance of Mr Carson. Tom had decided silence was the best policy, so the first course passed rather surreally, with Edith talking about her plans for attending a concert with Mr Strallen, and various enquiries about Matthew and Mary's wedding. It was as if neither of them were actually sat there in person.

Violet was the first person to speak to Tom in the end. "Now then, it's good of your employer to let you have some time away to visit us."

Tom was about to reply when Sybil stepped in. "Actually Grannie, its not quite like that. You see Tom is a freelance writer which means.."

"Freelance?" Lord Grantham interupted. "That doesn't sound very , stable, given your situation."

Nervous glances were exchanged by various guests, as all eyes focused on how Tom would react to the barely veiled insult. He looked away for a moment then straight at his father in law. "Not really Sir, it's common in my profession. It gives me the opportunity to sell for a higher price."

"That's certainly an old profession, but not a respectable topic for the dinner table." Violet dryly remarked, drawing blushes from the other ladies and an amused smirk from the footman, Thomas.

Cora valiently attempted to change the subject.

"So my dear, how are you preparing your house for the baby? As I said to you earlier, your father and I agreed you simply must have a nurse to help you, we can discuss tomorrow the detail."

Sybil felt her husband bristle besides her. She had forgotten to mention her mother's suggestion they pay for a nanny, what with all the confusion over her dates and his unpredictable mood. "We can talk about it tomorrow Mama" she said with an attempt at discretion. Tom looked at her with something approaching a feeling of betrayal.

"Thank you for the offer, but it won't be necessary." Tom shortly replied.

Matthew, keenly feeling the atmosphere, cast about for something to say to improve the mood. "So, will you be staying til after the baby is born Tom? "

"No Matthew, just a few weeks then we will be back home in Dublin. " he smiled, wishing he could be there at this very moment.

It was too late, Sybil sensed the direction of conversation but was unable to halt it.

"But Mother said the baby was due in a few weeks?" Matthew turned to Isobel to see her staring back at him, willing him to say no more.

"Mary, I've seen the most wonderful flowers growing in the garden of Mr Peters, you simply must see them and consider them for your bouquet." Isobel said, attempting to divert the conversation, although noone was listening.

Tom looked up. " No, there's a few months to go yet. Besides I need to get back to Dublin to continue my work properly, don't I Sybil?" Sybil looked tentatively at her husband. "Can we talk about this after dinner Tom?"

He looked at her incredulously, then around at the guests. "I see I am a bit behind the news here. I presume you were intending on telling me at some point, although clearly after others. I'm sorry to have got in the way of your planning." His eyes flashed with anger. "If you will excuse me" he added sarcastically "I feel unwell." at which he got up and stormed out.

Sybil felt her stomach tighten again and she drew in her breath, her head was feeling fuzzy. She knew she should go to Tom, he must feel he had been betrayed by his own wife, it had sounded so much worse than it was. She stood up slowly, took a deep breath and followed her husband out of the room.

"Trouble in paradise?" Violet queried. "Well I can't say I'm surprised really, when one breaks with convention these things happen. Poor Sybil to have made such a mistake, we must do something to help."

Cora exchanged glances with Robert, before changing the subject to something less controversial and continuing with the meal. Mary leant in towards Matthew, whispering "I'll talk to her again in the morning. Maybe she will be ready to see sense now."

Matthew looked away, resolving to speak to Tom tomorrow to apologise for his unintentional and unfortunate topic of conversation, and to talk to Mary privately about her attitude to the pair.

Sybil took a deep breath and paused on the landing before Tom's room. She had no doubt they were about to have an almighty row. Should she just apologise at the start to try to deflect his anger, or at least attempt to explain? From the outside of the room there was no indication someone was inside, which probably meant he was sat there, waiting for the fireworks to begin. She opened the door and entered.


	8. Chapter 8

"Sybil it's probably best you don't say anything at this point in time." Tom said tersely as she entered the room. He was sat on the bed with his arms defiantly crossed. Sybil could see his suitcase had been dragged out of the wardrobe in a show of defiance at the family. She felt her own anger rising at his inflammatory attitude to the situation. It had not been easy going to Dublin to live but she had done it without the histrionics now on display.

"Why do you have to overreact like this all the time? Why shouldn't my parents help us out a bit if they can afford to?" she demanded, conveniently ignoring her failure to mention the changing due date of the baby which she knew deep down had hurt him the most.

"If you don't know the answer to that then you don't know me very well. And don't make light of this, just when were you going to tell me you were planning to have the baby here all along? Or maybe me coming with you wasn't part of the plan. You should just have said so and saved us this whole charade."

She was shocked to realise he was still so insecure about her feelings for him. " What exactly do I need to do to prove my feelings for you Tom? Tell me because I'm running out of ideas. I left my family, moved to a different country, lived with your mother, married in a different faith and now I'm having your baby, what more does it take?" she said, brushing her hand over her head in exasperation.

"Don't try to come that with me, we both know the baby wasn't planned. " he stood up and paced to the window. "I know what they are all saying about me, fallen on his feet, a kept man, can you not understand the humiliation of finding out like that that not only are your parents paying for help I can't afford, but that you had planned to have the baby here rather than with me in Dublin. Lets face it, sometimes you are better off with the desire not the reality. I'm sure this isn't how you imagined it to be." Sybil could sense his anger was turning to self pity. Usually she would play along but tonight she was not prepared to massage his ego.

"You are being ridiculous. And yes you are right, I didn't plan the baby, but I didn't know it was due so soon. I can't believe you think I would lie about that, I thought you thought better of me. " Seeing the doubt and sorrow in her husbands eyes softened her anger somewhat, which was compounded by a particularly strong kick from inside her stomach by their baby. " What happened to your promise to devote yourself to my happiness?" As she spoke the words it seemed they had been said an eternity ago, in a different lifetime. She reflected how much things had changed since then, noticing Tom had gone quiet. She held out her hand to him, which he took, as he said "I would if you would just let me."

They sat silently for a few moments, thinking over the day's events, it still was not 24 hours since they had arrived at Downton.

Eventually Tom broke the silence. "So is this the part where I go for a drink with your dad and Matthew and you go and talk needlework with the ladies?"

They never apologised directly, so Sybil knew this was as close as it would get. She smiled " I think that might silence the critics".

"So when is the baby due?" he pondered, realising that fatherhood was arriving sooner than expected.

" Dr Clarkson said a few weeks. Tom you have to know I didn't plan this. I'm in as much shock as you."

He kissed her hand chastely. "Come on, I need a drink. " he said as they walked back down the stairs. Sybil stroked the inside of his hand with her fingers as they paused before going to their seperate rooms. "See you later and good luck." she said as they parted.

Tom was pleased to see Matthew in the room as he entered. He walked over to Tom with a broad smile. "Tom, I'm sorry about earlier, Sybil only found out today Mother said, and was planning to tell you later I'm sure"

"Its fine Matthew really. You'll find out soon married life has its ups and downs. Particularly when it involves a Crawley sister."

Robert looked on awkwardly, how was it possible for them to be so at ease in each others company? "Some port?" he offered struggling to think of what else to say.

"That will do nicely Sir" Tom said, taking the glass rather awkwardly. "I always wondered what happened after dinner." he said to Matthew with a grin. "How long do we let the ladies drive each other mad? "

As Tom and Matthew continued their good humoured conversation, Robert made his excuses to go to the library, he needed some breathing space. He noticed on the desk the articles Branson had begun to draft, and after shutting the door, curiously leafed through them. Whilst aware that he wasn't a typical servant, the depth and quality of his former chauffeur's writing took him aback. For the first time he found himself beginning to have some understanding of his daughter's feelings for him. In fact, with the greatest relief he realised the affair wasn't some sort of sordid servant and mistress fantasy, but maybe a meeting of minds. It still was unacceptable in his view, but maybe he could look at the two of them together without inwardly wincing.

He walked back to see Matthew and Tom still talking amicably.

" Gentlemen, shall we join the ladies now?" he suggested, as close to an olive branch as he could offer.

Tom looked straight into his eyes and nodded, as the three of them exited the room.

Sybil had been nervously fidgeting for some time now, keenly wanting to know how her husband was getting on. The tightening across her bump seemed to be happening more often now in line with her rising stress levels. When Tom and Matthew walked in, obviously in good humour, she felt all the tension leave her body.

Tom walked over to her and kissed her hair softly. "It was fine Sybil, well I'm still alive at any rate."

She had the strongest urge to hold him close, the day had been one of the most emotionally exhausting she had ever experienced. She realised with some surprise that she wanted nothing more than to be in their bed at home, their feet intertwined and her head tucked into his chest, as they normally slept.

Eventually Sybil was obviously so tired that Tom insisted on taking her to her room. He was rather disappointed to find Anna was waiting to help her undress, as he had been hoping to help her as they did at home, however Tom soon felt the awkwardness of thr situation and left for his own room.

After changing into his nightclothes he felt strangely unsettled and not tired at all, as if there was something unfinished to deal with. Checking the hallway was clear, he knocked on his wife's door. He was not surprised that there was no reply, she had been so exhausted it had been all she could do to make it up the stairs.

He entered quietly. She looked stunningly beautiful asleep, a stray beam of moonlight falling on her face, her right hand delicately placed over her stomach where their baby grew, her left outstretched falling outside the bed, looking bereft of her wedding ring. Tom lay down behind her, one hand over her shoulder and one round her waist. Although asleep she interlinked her legs with his instinctively, and stroked his feet with hers, holding his hand tight. A contented sigh escaped her lips as Tom drifted off to sleep.

_The end. Thanks to all who have reviewed and read, I think this is a good place to end this story. Hope to be back soon with more on their lives after the baby._


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